


In Vino Veritas

by sabby1



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Flirting, Gen, Humor, Prompt Fill, Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-01-29 12:37:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21410317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabby1/pseuds/sabby1
Summary: Magnus tries to compel a little truth from Alec with Seelie wine. It doesn't go to plan.
Comments: 29
Kudos: 96
Collections: Shadowhunters: The Ficlet Instruments





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [sh_ficletinstruments](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/sh_ficletinstruments) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Oh boy. When someone gets drunk, a lot of truths come out.
> 
> Bound to the 500 word limit I had to stop there. I might continue this if there's any interest.
> 
> ###### 

It’s a rare thing for Shadowhunters to celebrate truly joyous occasions, so when they do, they’re quite inept.

Who can blame them? Funerals are more frequent than weddings, and every official ceremony is soured by the aftertaste of impending death.

Magnus Bane is determined to right this grievous wrong for a certain group of Shadowhunters close to his own heart.

To wit, he has taken it upon himself to throw lavish parties on every possible occasion, deluging them with the spirit of joie de vivre. Eventually, some of it will soak in.

He hopes with selfish petulance that it will soak quickly and deeply into one particular pretty boy with midnight-hair and water-colored eyes that have robbed Magnus of his higher intellect on more than one occasion.

He schemes with the knowledge that a single sip of wine from the southern hills of the Seelie realm could wring the truth from the Prince of Lies himself.

Magnus takes great care to safeguard his secret weapon. Legends prevail about the calamity it can cause. Amusing legends, frankly, but not the sort of diversion he is aiming for tonight.

A subtle gesture summons the small flagon into his palm. A tip of the wrist pours no more than a thimble’s worth of shimmering liquid into a glass of French Merlot. 

Magnus approaches his intended with a sashay honed by decades of practice and a smile he hopes looks less foolish than it feels.

“Alexander,” he purrs and snaps his mouth shut at the raw lust that escaped with the name.

Alexander Lightwood is young and easily spooked. The caged expression on his angelic features alerts Magnus he has less than a second to amend his approach.

“You seem a bit tense,” he says. “Would you care for some wine?”

“Yeah,” Alec says. “Sure.”

Their fingers brush when he takes the glass. The sensation sinks into Magnus’s skin with its own unique flavor of magic. He watches, starving, as Alec raises the glass and takes a sip.

“What do you think?”

The beautiful mouth distorts in disgust.

“It’s awful. Izzy? Try this. Is it supposed to taste like that?”

Magnus’s eyes widen as Alec passes the glass to his sister and the brazen Shadowhunter takes a healthy swig from the poisoned well.

“It’s fine. It’s just dry Merlot. Honestly, Alec, you’re such a wuss. I’ll finish it.”

“You’ve already had three.”

“I’ll drink it.”

“You’ve had five, Jace. Oh, this is awful. It tastes like that stuff Simon and I stole from his mom’s liquor cabinet when we were thirteen.”

“Clary! Does it?”

Caught in the mockery of a Shakespeare tragedy, Magnus watches the glass pass from Alec, to Izzy, to Jace, to Clary, to Simon. Each imbibes their share of Seelie wine, compelling them to unabashed truth.

“I am so sorry.” Magnus breathes.

“Why?” Simon asks bluntly.

“What’s wrong?” Clary furrows her brows.

Alec turns to him with a glower devoid of doubt or diffidence.

“What did you do?”

His heart stops.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that the challenge is over ... The continuation of that awkward moment.
> 
> ###### 

Even though he has not tasted a single drop of the potent Seelie wine, Magnus feels compelled to tell the truth.

“I laced your drink with Seelie wine.”

Isabelle Lightwood’s giggle echoes loudly in the tense atmosphere.

“Oh, crap,” she wheezes between gasping breaths. “We’re screwed.”

“What does it do?” Simon asks Magnus and immediately follows it with, “Man, I love her laugh. It makes my stomach tingle. Does it make your stomach tingle?” A look of dawning horror takes over his expressive features. “Oh, crap. I think I know what Seelie wine does.”

“Obviously,” Jace snaps, “it exacerbates your uncontrollable verbal diarrhea.”

“Jace!” Clary barks. “Stop being so mean to Simon. He’s my best friend, and it’s like you turn into this stupid jock around him. It pisses me off.” 

“He’s annoying as hell, and every time you hug him, I feel like—” Jace snaps his mouth shut and crosses his arms with a mulish glare, swallowing several times.

He turns mercurial eyes on Magnus with murderous intent carved legibly into the angry creases on his forehead.

“How do we make it stop?” Jace enunciates every word slowly and carefully.

“Why?” Simon snickers. “Afraid you’re going to say something embarrassing, tough guy?”

“No.”

Jace bites his bottom lip so hard he draws blood. Tears start to well in his eyes. He fights them like the Shadowhunter he is, pressing his forefinger and thumb into the soft corners at the bridge of his nose as if he is thrusting his angel sword into an oncoming horde of demons.

Magnus sighs in sympathy. “It’s better if you let it out.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to reveal some weakness and you’re going to exploit it to hurt me, like my father did when he killed my falcon just because I got attached.”

Jace glares wet and bloody murder at Magnus.

“Dude!” Simon drones. “I’d never do that. Like, I might be in love with Clary, and you might be my biggest rival, but that’s just not cool. Your father is a psycho.”

“Simon!” Clary shrieks. “Why did you have to say it out loud?”

“Honestly,” Isabelle interrupts, “It’s kind of obvious. There’s no way you didn’t know. It’s a bummer, too.” She smiles brightly at Simon. “You’re really cute, in a nerdy way, and I totally wouldn’t mind a tumble in the sheets or two or three. How is mundane stamina when compared to Shadowhunters? I’ve never done it with a mundane. Would you mind being my first? For science?”

“Izzy!” Jace squawks.

“Huh?” Simon says weakly.

“I wish you would,” Clary admits dolefully. “It’d make me feel so much better.”

“Clary!”

A suppressed noise of disgust draws Magnus’s attention back to the one person he has been steadfastly not looking at for the past couple of minutes.

Alec has broken away from their group and is headed on a straight and stormy path to the balcony.

“If you’ll excuse me.”

Magnus hangs his head and leaves the ongoing bickering behind.


	3. Chapter 3

He steps out onto the quiet balcony, searching among the gray silhouettes of furniture and décor for the illusive shadow of Alexander Lightwood. Magnus finds him by the fire escape near the balustrade.

“You drugged me.”

Alec’s tone stops Magnus several paces away from him.

“I … did.” He has no wish to lie about his actions. “I’m sorry.”

“How does it work?”

“It doesn’t force you to say or do anything, but it makes it impossible to lie or deceive. Anything you say will be the truth. Any emotion you experience will be sincere and candid.”

Alec nods and stares at the city below them.

“Like the fact that I’m so angry right now, I can’t even look at you.”

“Yes.” Magnus gulps. “Like that.”

“Why did you do it?”

Magnus takes a trembling breath. He feels the pivotal nature of this moment in the insubstantial ground beneath his feet. There is no room for error.

“I’m enamored with you. Foolishly, ridiculously, head over heels, taken leave of my senses smitten by you. I just wanted to know if there was a tiny possibility that you might reciprocate my interest. I sincerely apologize. I never meant to cause you any harm.”

“Did you drink it, too?”

Magnus looks away. “No.”

“Do you still have some?”

Alec’s tone is rigid and pushy. He has never heard the boy talk with this level of confidence outside of giving orders to his siblings.

“Yes,” he answers honestly.

“Drink it.”

Magnus’s shocked gaze flies up to meet Alec’s determined glare. His beautiful eyes reflect the light from the party inside as the details of his expression are lost to the shadows of the murky urban night sky.

Magnus can feel the magic in his fingers stutter when he summons the flagon. He is afraid. Afraid is a completely insufficient term for the terror that burns like demon breath across his skin.

How much more truth can Alec possibly want to wring from him? What is there left to compel that he hasn’t already given freely?

He pops the small silver stopper and raises the flagon to his lips. The taste is bittersweet and addictive.

“There,” he says, banishing the wine back to its secure location in his locked apothecary.

Alec nods quietly and says nothing for a moment that feels long enough to build and destroy an empire.

“Now tell me the truth. How do you really feel?”

“Terrified,” Magnus blurts out. “Helpless. Completely overwhelmed by this feeling that I know, I _know_ will only lead me to drunken oblivion or the ledge of a bridge with no one there to stop me, because I love too much, too fast, too hard. And I. Always. Lose.”

He feels his heart stop and start in uneasy fits inside his chest and there is no holding back the words unless he wants to make a long journey short and take a flying leap right off this very building.

“You weren’t supposed to happen, Alexander Lightwood.”


	4. Chapter 4

Alec tilts his head. The reflected light disappears from his eyes, casting them into darkness with the rest of his face. 

“What do you mean?”

“I had a plan,” Magnus confesses, “A vague notion, really, to protect myself from this for the next 500 years.” He laughs at himself. “Then you showed up and looked at me and ruined it.”

“_I _ruined _your_ plan?” Alec snorts. “How about you_. _Trashed_._ _Everything_?”

His anger is a tangible gust of force that pushes Magnus a step back.

“I had a crush on Jace since we were kids. I had it under control. And then you show up and you smolder, and you sashay, and you purr, and you push and push, and throw yourself at every weak spot in my defenses. I can’t turn around without you there, smiling and flirting. I don’t know how I’m supposed to fight this. It’s exhausting.”

The words burn Magnus to the bone. He smiles.

“I get that a lot.”

Alec makes a noise like denial wrestling acceptance in a ring of obstinacy.

“I don’t want to fall for you, but you keep tipping me over.”

Magnus laughs.

“That makes two of us, darling.”

“The Clave will de-rune me.”

“They’ll certainly try to execute me.”

“I’ll get old and die.”

“I never will.”

“The Angels might smite me first.”

“My father is the Prince of Hell. He’ll get to you before they do.”

“I’ve never been with anyone.”

“I’ve been with way too many people for all the wrong reasons.”

“How many?”

Magnus blinks.

“Gosh, I don’t know.”

“More than ten?”

Magnus gawks with a noise of baffled exasperation.

“Definitely.”

“More than a hundred?”

“Probably? I don’t know! I could make up some ridiculous number like 17,000 and watch you try to do the math, but I really don’t remember. It’s been 400 years! The ones that stick out are the ones who hurt the most. So, if you want to know how many people I’ve had sex with? No clue. How many people have I loved?”

Magnus raises his fist and extends one finger at a time.

“Etta, Camille, Imasu, George.” His fingers curl back around his thumb. “And now _you_.”

The distance between them is gone, eaten up in a duel of brutal honesty.

Alec stares at his fist. Gulps.

“This can only end in disaster.”

Magnus drops his arm with a shrug.

“At least, the sex will be amazing.”

Alec blushes.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Please. You’re gorgeous, and I can teach you things I learned from the Whore of Babylon. Just a stage name. She was actually Becky from Winnipeg. Damn. This wine is really...”

Alec’s brows furrow.

“You had sex with a Canadian prostitute?”

“We were in Barbados at the time. It was the 80s.”

Alec cringes. “I was born in 89.”

Magnus sighs. “I know.”

“We shouldn’t,” Alec says. “Maybe we can stop.”

They kiss.

“Definitely not.” Magnus shakes his head.

“Yeah. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

The End.


End file.
